


Drabbles!

by WhatDoesTheFauxSay



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatDoesTheFauxSay/pseuds/WhatDoesTheFauxSay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few (very) short drabbles about the characters. </p><p>If you want more, leave a comment with a character name and a new one should be posted shortly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Danny

In a milk-white skyscraper, in an unremarkable city, a man sat at a desk.  
A folder was in front of him; everything in the room was a brilliant white, or nearly. Paper, telephone, desktop, walls.  
The photos were different. They showed a boy, wearing a black jumpsuit, flying through the air as though he hadn't a care in the world.

"The Ghost Boy, Phantom, is the Guys in White's target number one," the man explained. "He has been observed in several attacks on Amity Park, as well as battling a number of ghosts in incidents all this year."

The man continued, "Oddly, he does not appear to originate from the Ghost Zone, unlike the ghosts he's been battling, so he has to have had an alternate place to hide." He cleared his throat. "We think Phantom has a cover identity; he is possessing an unknown student at Casper High."

The man looked at the person sitting across from him. "Your job will be to watch Casper High for the ghost boy. Try and find out who he is, why he haunts the school, and who he's possessing. And, if necessary…" The man indicated the brand-new ectogun on the table. "Do what you need."

Danny Fenton, still getting used to his new white suit, nodded.  
"I'll do my best."


	2. Tucker

Tucker, Mr. Lancer, Mrs. Tetslaff, and Principal Ishiyama all sat around the table. Everyone, with the possible exception of Tucker, looked stern.   
"Principal," Mr. Lancer said, "I hate to interrupt your reasoning, but I think that in a real business situation…"   
"This _isn't_ a real business situation!" shouted Mrs. Tetslaff, pounding the table. "He helped the other students cheat—"

"I was _not_ cheating!" Tucker said. "Plenty of parents leave their real kids at daycare all the time."  
 "And while they're there, _nobody eats them!_ " replied Mrs. Tetslaff. "You ended up causing the entire class to fail."

"To return to my point," Mr. Lancer interrupted, "there is a clause in many business contracts titled 'force majeure'. It refers to unforeseeable, unavoidable events such as floods, fires, or so-called 'Acts of God'."   
"Yeah! What he said!" Tucker chimed in. "How was _I_ to know my mom would use the flour to make cookies? And anyway, those fancy devices you attached to 'em should still work, right?"

Mr. Lancer finished, "As such, while I understand where both of you are coming from, I'd advise that Mr. Foley be, how shall we put it? 'Let off the hook,' on the grounds that the… accident was just that."

There was something of a standoff. Mr. Lancer stared at Mrs. Tetslaff and the principal. They stared back. It lasted for a few seconds.

"Fine," Principal Ishiyama finally said, sounding a bit grumpy. "Mr. Foley, you can keep the money from your 'Flour Power Daycare', as long as you ask the administration the next time you plan on starting a school-related business. Do you understand?" Tucker nodded, thanked her politely, and quietly left. It wasn't until he was in the halls that he whooped, jumped for joy, and shouted, at the top of his lungs,

"I'M IN THE MONEY!"

Danny had to rescue Tucker from the ensuing mob, but it was worth it.  
  



	3. Sam

“This feels weird,” Pamela Manson complained, poking the pile of black clothes.  
“You promised,” her daughter said. “If you want me to try _that_ on—“ Sam gestured at a bright dress laid over a chair, “then you get to have a taste of what it’s like to be me.

Pam hemmed and hawed a bit, but she _had_ promised. She and Sam took their respective outfits, heading somewhere private to change.   
Sam’s mom returned first, looking at herself in the mirror. Sam followed soon after. They stared, sizing each other up.

Pamela Manson looked different. Her daughter had provided a dark, silky dress that was made to shimmer. Pam’s normal white gloves were gone, replaced with long leather ones; she even had a pair of stylized combat boots, with just enough of a platform heel to tower over all who would oppose her.

Sam stared, keeping herself from letting her jaw drop. Her mother looked _good._ She’d even found a black wig somewhere, pinned up in thick coils; a single red streak ran through it, like a swirl of blood into water.  
“I thought you’d look—“ she said, before she could stop herself.

As Sam hesitated, her mother smiled, took her by the shoulder, and led her in front of the mirror; and Sam saw herself.

She’d put on the dress, the color of a summer sunset. The gloves too, and the jewelry. Still… something was missing.  
Pamela rooted around in a drawer and handed Sam an orange wig, the same color as Pam’s own dyed hair.   
Sam slipped it on, looked at her reflection, and immediately froze.

“Hi, Mom…” she sheepishly said to her mirror self. When Sam didn’t get an answer back, she got bolder.

“Hey, Pammykins!” she said, glancing to where her mom stood in all her gothly glory. Sam gestured at herself. “We got you this dress, because we think you need to blend in with us forever.”

“Ohhhh noooo!” Pam said, waving her hands. “But how will I ever shock my parents and all my friends by showing off how edgy I am?!” She bared her teeth; she was wearing vampire fangs. A set that Sam hadn’t given her.

 _When did she get those?_ Sam wondered. They looked custom-fit. “Don’t worry, Pammykins,” Sam said, smiling to show off the fangs _she’d_ brought and worn, “we’re _all_ vampires here.”

Sam’s mom stared at her for a few seconds, then cracked up laughing. Sam couldn’t stop herself; a moment later, she was chuckling just as hard as her mother.   
Pam folded her daughter in a hug; for once, Sam didn’t struggle. Softly, Pamela said, “I’m sorry we’ve been… distant. Just remember: people present the images they do for a _reason._ ”

In the hug, Sam smiled.  
“I will.”

* * *

**Halloween**

Danny and Tucker, both resplendent in their costumes, stepped into the Manson mansion.   
“I still don’t get it,” Tucker said. “ _How_ did Sam convince her parents to have a party _here?_ ”

Danny shrugged, pointing at the couple standing at the far end of the room. “Who cares? We’re here, and Sam got it through somehow.” He and Tucker waved, as the woman in the flowery dress came over to meet them.  
“Hi, Mrs. Mans—“   
Danny suddenly realized whose face was above the floral print.  
 _ **“—Sam?!??!”**_

Danny and Tucker quickly huddled, whispering.  
 _“—she’s not possessed. I’m sure of it!”_  
“Then what? Has she been replaced by a space alien? A clone?”  
“You read too many comic books—”

Sam Manson looked over at her mother, once again in vampiric splendor.  
They smiled. 


End file.
